12th March - The Woman
by crittle247
Summary: "Are you two writing messages to each other when you're in the same room?" (Mrs. Hudson) A Blog Post filler to the comments left on John's blog because there are so many good scenes that they created on his blog that deserves to be flushed out. Based from "The Woman" post, just after the episode 2x01 "A Scandal in Belgravia" Slash Free Fic.


A/N: This idea came to me as I was trying to find something to write within the Sherlock world. I was reading through the blog posts of John Watson that the show created and there are some funny comments there. Comments that created unseen moments that I felt need to be flushed out. Thus sparked my Sherlock muse. This is my first fic for this 'verse, but hopefully not my last.

All blog posts in my story comes from The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson website which was written by Joseph Lidster.

And because I love when other stories inform me before I start reading….there is No Slash. No romantic hints between Sherlock and John. Nothing that goes against the friendship that is in the show.

This takes place right after "A Scandal in Belgravia" and has John's blog post titled "The Woman"

Please enjoy and let me know what you all think. Also this is un-Beta, so if anyone wants to help clear it of any mistakes let me know.

* * *

Despite the previous week, it was, for all intensive purposes, a quiet Saturday morning. The rain from the previous day had let up thus beginning a more positive transition in the weather. A break between fronts, if the news reports were acute. The flat held a slight chill from the night of inactivity, though as John made it slowly down the staircase from his room, he couldn't help wonder if part of the chill was from his own troubled self. He had a hard time falling asleep last night just with his mind going over the conversation he had with Mycroft in Speedy's. It wasn't every day that the elder Holmes came to him in confidence to discussed how to best way to protect Sherlock's emotional wellbeing. And even though John knew the story Mycroft came up with was for the best, lying to Sherlock just didn't sit well with the doctor.

Speaking of which, John looked around the main room surprised that his flat mate wasn't already awake or more on the fact that the flat showed no signs that he had pulled an all-nighter. He saw the infamous coat hung by the front door, confirming that the detective was indeed home and not running around London.

John moved towards the fireplace and worked to build a fire. It was just that kind of morning. Once the flames were strong, John went on with his morning routine. Bathroom for a wash, then put the kettle on as he headed back up to his room to get dressed. By the time he headed back down to the main room the fire had chased away the chill, the kettle was heated and Sherlock was seated in his green leather chair with the morning paper opened on his lap. They way Sherlock sat in his chair, fresh press shirt and trousers under his blue dressing gown, made John wonder how long his friend had been awake and made him question his previous assessment. Did Sherlock even go to bed last night? John just shook his head. It was hard enough to figure out Sherlock's nightly habits on normal days, but whenever _she_ occupied his thoughts it was damn near impossible to figure out what he was going to do. So, as John had learned earlier on, giving up on that puzzle was best and continued on like any other day.

"Moring," John said as he went into the kitchen not offended that he received no response. He already marked today as another 'deep-in-thought' day where Sherlock would say very little or nothing at all, spend hours in his 'Mind Place' and forget that John would be in the room. So when Sherlock spoke, it came as a surprise.

"Which is it today?"

John turned and looked back into the sitting room to see that Sherlock's attention was still focused on the paper. Sherlock had spoken softly so that John thought that perhaps he was speaking to himself.

"Sorry, what?" One could never be sure on what conservation Sherlock was referring to.

The paper turned. "Tea or Coffee?"

"Um, I haven't gotten that far." He admitted as he turned back into the relatively clean kitchen.

He studied the coffee press and the tea pot as if staring at the two objects would help make up his mind. John heard the crinkle of the newspaper turning and thought that tea might be the best choice. Less caffeine, no need to give Sherlock's active mind further fuel to go into hyper-gear on such a quite morning. Without needing to inform his friend on his drink decision, John prepared two cups of tea perfectly for two different preferences.

Once again, John was not offended that Sherlock had not given any words of thanks when John passed the cup of sugar milked tea off to the detective. It was just the norm of two friends. John settled into his chair and let out a sigh of contentment as he felt the luxury of warm flames and his perfectly prepared cuppa. The atmosphere of the flat made the morning feel a lot earlier than it actually was, but as John reached for his laptop, he didn't care. For him, any chance to have a relaxed Saturday morning was a gift in itself.

* * *

**THE PERSONAL BLOG OF**  
**Dr. John H. Watson**

**| 12th March |**

**The Woman**

**I can't say much about the actual case because of the Official Secrets Act but the country was nearly brought to its knees by one person – Irene Adler. She's now under a witness protection scheme so we'll not be seeing her again. And Sherlock seems fine with that.|**

* * *

Fingers stopped typing as John looked up from his laptop to Sherlock who had moved over to the desk during the course of the morning. His long fingers typing away on his own laptop doing god knows what. But as John looked across at this friend, he couldn't but help study the tall slender man. Nothing about Sherlock had seemed to be normal the moment Irene Adler had sauntered into his life. It had been about 11 months with The Woman weaving in and out of Sherlock's path and each time, each text, it effected the man who claimed had no time for any relationship. John knew that he would never admit it, out loud or to himself, that Ms. Irene Adler had had been the closest form of a romantic relationship that he had ever had. Just with Sherlock's reaction yesterday when he lied to him about her getting a witness protection scheme in America was enough proof to John that he had really cared about her. The way he had his hand outstretched, softly pleading for the mobile that she had claimed was her heart….

* * *

**THE PERSONAL BLOG OF**  
**Dr. John H. Watson**

**| 12th March |**

**The Woman**

**I can't say much about the actual case because of the Official Secrets Act but the country was nearly brought to its knees by one person – Irene Adler. She's now under a witness protection scheme so we'll not be seeing her again. And Sherlock seems fine with that.**

**Of course, he isn't fine with it, not really. But he'll get there. |**

* * *

He uploaded his post with that final thought. It might seem too personal, but he felt like it needed to be said. To let his readers know the final say on the whole matter that was Irene Adler. He couldn't help but scroll down through his old blog post containing Ms. Adler, pinpointing his remarks on how The Woman affected Sherlock emotionally.

* * *

**| 31st December |**

**…She's still alive. Dead or alive, it's all just a game to her…..**

**….Either way, she's messing with his head…**

**….He won't talk about her, obviously…**

* * *

**| 25th December |**

**Irene Adler. She's gone and he won't dare admit it but he's devastated. He can't show it and I don't think he understands what he's feeling. Sometimes he's so cut off from everything, so cold, so lacking in emotion that when he does feel something…well I think it's the one thing on this planet he'll never quite get.**

* * *

**| 15th September |**

**And I'm sure it won't be the last time we hear the name Irene Adler. In fact, I'm pretty certain he's getting texts from her. It's funny, in the time I've known him, I've never seen him take the slightest interest in a woman but this one…She's got to him.**

* * *

John's brow wrinkled slightly at the last post he read, which was the first time Irene Adler made an appearance on his blog. Something struck him as a sad truth, each post was relevant now as they were then in one way or another. Even though her death was only known to a small few, as far as the world knew, she was still alive and John could not stop himself from wondering if Sherlock would always be secretly waiting for that orgasmic sigh of a text alert saying "Let's have dinner".

John glanced back up at Sherlock, who was still engrossed into whatever caught his fleeting attention on the internet. The doctor shook his head, as he moved his attention back to his own computer screen to set his mind on less dismal thoughts. He popped open another tab and started with his emails before browsing through internet. John was still shifting through his emails when his computer let out a small _ding_ of an alert notice cut through the peaceful quite. He pulled up his blog page and saw that he had already received a comment on his latest post.

* * *

**Really, John, what's the point in the post? If you can't detail what happened in a case because of some ridiculous law thing then way bother?**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 11:32**

* * *

John found himself peering over the top of his laptop to Sherlock, who seemed to have already moved on to other websites. How that man could tell that he had posted a new blog post just from his typing was beyond him. But John was not stupid, even though Sherlock didn't right out and comment on the personal aspect of his latest post, it told John that was exactly what Sherlock was complaining about. He was about to actually voice out his response, but his fingers moved across the keyboard instead. If Sherlock wanted to have this conversation over a public blog, then he would respond in kind.

* * *

**It adds context. Gives people an idea about the real you.**

**John Watson 12 March 11:35**

* * *

The moment he posted his comment, John watched how Sherlock paused his typing, went through the motions of pulling up a webpage, pounded on the keys quickly, pause of changing tasks, before he went back to his normal string of typing. There was a soft _ding_ from John's computer informing him that Sherlock had indeed just replied on his comment.

* * *

**How does it? And why should people want to know the real me? What's the point?!**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 11:37**

* * *

John brought his left hand up to his face and rubbed his forehead just above his eyebrow. It was vain attempt to rid himself of the growing exasperation that only Sherlock can make him feel. No matter how long he shared a flat with the man, it never ceased to amaze him on just how oblivious his flat mate was to the outside world. It made him teeter on the desire to punch Sherlock or laugh.

_~Ding~_

John knew that it wasn't Sherlock adding another cheeky comment as he never broke his string of incessant typing. As John dropped his hand back to his laptop to scroll down to the newest comment, he made a metal note to ask Sherlock later on what he was working on.

* * *

**Are you two writing messages to each other when you're in the same room?**

**Mrs. Hudson 12 March 11:40**

* * *

Mrs. Hudson. The beginnings of a smirk formed on John's face, with Mrs. Hudson now on the blog, this morning 'conversation' could become very amusing.

* * *

**And where are you Mrs. H?**

**John Watson 12 March 11:45**

* * *

**Downstairs :) (That's a happy face by the way)**

**Mrs. Hudson 12 March 11:46**

* * *

Adorable, John thought. Each growing day, Mrs. H was turning more and more into a doting grandmother than a landlady, and having her in their lives made living with Sherlock more bearable.

* * *

**Are we really doing this?**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 11:48**

* * *

John just smiled at Sherlock's implied annoyance that three people, who were all in the same building, were communicating via blog post comments at the same time. He would have thought that his flat mate would love the fact that no one was actually talking allowing him to filter what he would classify as useless babble. John got up from his chair and placed his laptop on the worn seat. His stomach had let it be known that his morning was a cup of tea would be far from sufficient, and even though Sherlock could sustain himself on tea alone, John needed some real food.

The army doctor stood at the edge of the kitchen preparing himself for the great search of edible food. Despite the fact that in the making of his morning tea was completed successfully without any incident, he knew however that this second endeavor would give him a far greater chance of stumbling upon some type of body part this go around.

While preparing his mind to begin such a task as making a meal, the comfortable silence was once again disturbed by John's laptop.

_~Ding~ _

However, the owner of the computer made no attempt to rush over to see who had left the newest comment. Instead, John pulled on the handle of the refrigerator breaking the suction on the seal allowing cold air to escape its confines. A muffle sigh was John's response upon seeing practically noting eatable on the two selves.

2 cans of his beer, rice vinegar, milk, handful of grapes, bag of thumbs still marinating, 2 softening carrots, ketchup, jam, mystery leftovers from god knows when, some more condiments, a jar of what looked like sauerkraut but he highly doubted it.

The door to the fridge closed shut on its own, as John moved to the cupboards, which seemed to have more eatable ingredients. But that was all they were, ingredients, and this morning John was hopping more for a more simple heat-and-eat type of meal.

_~Ding~_

John made his way back to his chair, which a slight detour back to the fridge to grab a hand full of grapes. As he settled back into his chair he saw that the conversation via his blog was still in full swing between Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson.

* * *

**It's all very clever isn't it! Do you think in the future people will stop talking to each other face to face?**

**Mrs. Hudson 12 March 11:50**

* * *

**That's something to live and hope for.**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 11:55**

* * *

Totally ignoring the previous remark from his flat mate, John put the idea of going out for a meal out there to see if there was any takers. It was the only option if he was going to get some real food into him. A smile found its way on his lips as he got an instant response from Mrs. Hudson.

* * *

**I'm starving. Anyone fancy going out for brunch?**

**John Watson 12 March 11:57**

* * *

**Brunch! Fancy!**

**Mrs. Hudson 12 March 11:58**

* * *

John stood up from his chair once again, but this time to prepare on heading out for brunch. He had to admit that it made him happy that they were going to go out. Anytime that John could enjoy a meal that he didn't have to prepare was a good one, and with Mrs. Hudson tagging along was a treat. There was no case either, so with their landlady joining, maybe the both of them can get Sherlock to eat a decent meal.

_~Ding~_

_~Ding~ _

John stopped mid stride on the staircase to his room. His head fell with a defeated sigh as John realized that Sherlock was still on his computer and not getting ready to go out to brunch.

_~Ding~_

_~Ding~_

The quick back to back alert sounded like chimes of a bell forced a curse from John as he did an about-face and headed back down the stairs to the main floor. He stalked over to his chair and lifted his laptop to eye level as he went to read the latest between the occupants of 221 Baker Street.

* * *

**Can't be bothered. Bring some food up, Mrs. Hudson.**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 12:01**

* * *

**I'****m not your housekeeper!**

**Mrs. Hudson 12 March 12:02**

* * *

**But you've just come back from the café which means you've lots of cakes you won't eat.**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 12:04**

* * *

**That was going to be a surprise!**

**Mrs. Hudson 12 March 12:05**

* * *

Annoyed. That was the best way to describe his mood. John was annoyed. What was so important, other than communicating through blog comments that Sherlock could not leave his desk to get food? His jaw clenched as he narrowed his glaze to the other man. There he was claiming to be hungry, but too busy to move from his chair and demanding cakes as his meal.

John fell into his chair knowing that the prospects of enjoying a nice meal out was quickly fading away with each….

_~Ding~_

….comment.

* * *

**Well, stop typing and surprise us!**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 12:07**

* * *

The deep sound of John clearing his throat caused Sherlock to finally break his stare from his computer screen and look at John for the first time this morning. Even though he didn't utter a single syllable, John could tell by the way Sherlock's blue eyes darted back and forth, that the sociopath heard every word.

John held his gaze as Sherlock turned back to his laptop and typed out a string of words.

* * *

**Sorry, Mrs. Hudson. John's given me a look. Apparently that was rude.**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 12:09**

* * *

Brown eyes flickered down at the screen just long enough to read Sherlock's 'apology' before resting back on the slender man. It was nice that the growing years with a man that could know all about you with one look, has picked up on the 'not good' glare. Not only that, but act in accordingly to rectify the situation that was deemed not good.

However, there was still the problem of what to do about food. John knew that Sherlock acknowledging what he had 'said' was rude, that wouldn't been good enough for Mrs. Hudson. So he held his stare.

He watched as Sherlock's head turned slightly in his direction clearly feeling his glare. Then fingers slowly typed away at the keyboard, there was a pause before Sherlock turned and looked fully back at John. John felt a smile tug at his lips as he tried to keep his stern stare as he watched Sherlock sink lower in his chair defeated. With a long, low sigh he hit seven more keys before enter.

The laptop let out the short _ding_. But John didn't move to look at it right away. It always amused him slightly to see Sherlock's ego deflate like a punctured balloon when he called him out on his abrasiveness.

* * *

**Please, Mrs. Hudson. I'd really love some…brunch.**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 12:13**

* * *

With a smirk, John leaned back into his chair with exaggerated casualness. He would always relish in the small wins against Sherlock's stubbornness. John watched with amusement as Sherlock shifted in his chair, shoulders squaring off as his chest puffed out, like he was reflating himself from John's needle prick.

However, John's smile faltered as he noticed that Mrs. Hudson hadn't responded to any of their comments since five after the hour. Apparently Sherlock's apology was too little too late. Brunch with Mrs. H was ruined, but a glance at the clock informed John that it wouldn't happen anyways.

* * *

**It's lunchtime now. We missed brunch.**

**John Watson 12 March 12:17**

* * *

Now it was John's turn to feel deflated. He placed his laptop on the small table and looked towards the crackling fire. The ambers flickered and danced around the ray of red and orange flames, as the soft hitting of the keyboard from Sherlock continued to be the only sound in the flat. Yet as John relaxed in his chair, he could hear life outside of the flat be in full swing. The blaring of horns and cars passing down Baker Street was just another layer of mundane music that occupied the silence.

John observed how Sherlock's fingers hovered over his keyboard momintarily as the sounds of a siren was heard off in the distance. Both sets of eyes flickered towards the detective's phone as if waiting for the call of a case. It was still early to celebrate at the lack of a text or call from Scotland Yard, but John was really hoping that whatever was cause for those sirens was as Greg would put it "Not our division". He was enjoying this quiet Saturday and hoped it would say like this.

The short _ding_ brought John's attention to his laptop. He didn't have to move it from the table to see that Sherlock had went back to his indifference comments of boredom.

* * *

**This is incredibly tedious. Is this how you people talk to each other? What next, the weather?**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 12:25**

* * *

"Ooh-ooh!"

John whipped his head around to the door as Mrs. Hudson entered the flat with her normal call. At the sight of their landlady, John sprung from his chair and went to relieve her of the tray of food she held. One look at the prepared food, John leaned in and gave Mrs. Hudson a quick peck on the cheek.

"Mrs. H, you're too good to us." John broke the quite with the first spoken words in the last three hours. But still, John felt that there were really no words to describe how much he cherished Mrs. Hudson and all that she did for her two tenants.

"This looks amazing," he commented as he placed the tray of lunch on the table. His stomach let out a starving grumble at the site of the Quiche Lorraine with its thick buttery crust, creamy egg filling loaded with bacon and array of vegetables, the assortment of small cakes and a pot of brewed tea.

Mrs. Hudson let out a warm laugh, "Well, they had some leftover quiches at Speedy's and I didn't see why we still couldn't have a little brunch of our own."

John pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for Mrs. Hudson, as he went to move some of Sherlock's experiment bottles and test equipment to one end of the table. "Sherlock," John called across the room as he continued to set the table. Usually they would eat at the desk, but the table here was decent that John thought it would be nice to eat at the kitchen table, for once.

There was a long, over embellished sigh as the sound of the laptop flipping shut and chair legs gave a quick screech as it was pushed back. Sherlock crossed the room adjusting his dressing gown with a bit of dramatic flailing trying to make his point clear of his dislike of this interruption. However, it only caused Mrs. Hudson to smile sweetly, seeing right through his act.

"Oh, quit your fussing and sitty down, love," she patted on the vacant chair that John moved to the end of the table.

Silence fell over the trio as they dished out their meal and enjoyed the first few bites. Sherlock took a long slip from his tea before speaking, "Not bad, however…"

John couldn't stop his eyes from rolling knowing full well that anything complement from Sherlock had a 'but' in it.

Sherlock easily noted John's dramatics though continued on, "however, it's a shame that you did not put in the effort to make your own quiche Mrs. Hudson. The quality of this," he gestured to the breakfast pie on his plate, "is nothing compared to one of yours."

"That is very sweet of you to say, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said with a smile as she placed a hand on his forearm.

John placed his arms on either side of his plate on the table, his brow wrinkled as he tried to work through the confusion that fell on him. "That _was_ nice of you to say."

"Clearly you have not tired Mrs. Hudson's quiche, if so, you know that what I said was just the facts, nothing more." His baritone voice remarked with indifference as he waved passed the matter with his hand.

Mrs. Hudson and John shared a smirk across the table, knowing that was the closest form of a true complement that Sherlock was able to give. The rest of lunch was spent with pleasant conversation between all three of them as they finished off the quiche and desert cakes.

An hour later, John sat back down in his chair with a satisfying sigh. He had a full stomach, a warm fire, and a quiet flat mate, if he could fall asleep in the comfort of his chair it would be a good afternoon. John reached for his laptop to check a few things before shutting it off for the afternoon. The screen came out of sleep mode and his blog page was still open. He scrolled down the morning conversation comments smiling at the little glimpse of 'A Day in the Life' of 221B Baker Street that they had just given the world.

* * *

**Thanks for lunch, Mrs. H. Hope you got back downstairs okay!**

**John Watson 12 March 13:28**

* * *

He really could not thank Mrs. Hudson enough for bringing them up lunch, and it only felt fitting to do so on his blog. John felt his eyelids start to get heavy as went to check his inbox seeing some emails from people pleading for Sherlock's help. He scanned through them noting most of them were below a five, yet he still forward them to Sherlock anyways. One could never really know what could spark that man's interest.

Even with the hour of face to face conversation, the afternoon fell back into the silence of a crackling fire, fingers on keyboard and the pricing _ding_ of a comment alert. John finished up his browsing before pulling up his blog one last time. He could help but laugh, knowing full well that Mrs. H did that on purpose. It was her payback to Sherlock's rude comment no doubt.

* * *

**I can still manage stairs even with my hip! Look outside I think it's going to rain.**

**Mrs. Hudson 12 March 13:30**

* * *

John's smirk grew when he heard an exasperated mumbled curse come Sherlock. However, John was unable to fully revel in the amusement when his computer let out one last _ding._

* * *

**John, fetch me my revolver.**

**Sherlock Holmes 12 March 13:32**

* * *

"NO!" John voiced sternly as he flipped his laptop shut, having his own foul worded exasperated mumble.

He pushed himself out of the comfort of his chair and stalked over to Sherlock who continued to type away at his computer ignoring his blogger's movements. John reached over Sherlock and grabbed a locked box, which was located on the other end of the desk that held the revolver. The action caused Sherlock to raise an eyebrow at John's actions, however, John and the locked box headed upstairs with heavy footfall.

The signs of a victorious smile tugged at Sherlock's lips as he watched John from his peripheral vision leaving the room mumbling something about ruining his chance for a nice quite nap.


End file.
